


On Leave

by Zwaluw



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 15:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5503568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zwaluw/pseuds/Zwaluw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack really shouldn't have walked into this particular pub.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This came from a conversation about Jack Harkness, and I love it enough to brave my fears of publishing to put it up. I tried to do Canon Tom, and failed, so you all get AU Tom instead. I'm getting closer and closer to finishing the actual fic, but it might take a while before you see it appear, since it's rather rough around the edges.

It wasn’t exactly his usual haunt, a bit too local for his tastes. Dark and with a haze of smoke dancing in the lights. It would be full of people at least and there would be drinks. He needed a drink.

 

Settling at the bar with a lager was a comfort, a balm to his frayed nerves. It was a quiet night, people dotted in the booths while the jukebox played some unintelligible jazzy song in the background. The group in the biggest booth caught his attention as snippets of their conversation drifted towards him.

 

They were a curious company, with a young couple sitting between older men. There was an air of camaraderie around them that reminded him of the Army, of groups of soldiers knitted together by the hailstorms of bullets and anxious nights.

 

The younger man was a handsome thing and he was currently doing a fine display of being utterly exasperated while his friends laughed and smiled at his antics.

 

‘If I have to go to one more assembly, I swear I’ll murder one of them.’

 

The table burst into laughter at that, curiously unsympathetic. It just made the boy wave menacingly with a coaster at the lanky man sitting opposite to him.

 

‘God help me, one more night in those horribly tight things-’

 

The girl next to him swatted playfully at his sleeve and took a sip of her drink.

 

‘Oh don’t be silly Tom, you love playing Darcy. All aloof and prideful.’

 

That made them all go into fits of laughter again.

 

Something about the whole group set his teeth on edge, as if there was more there than met the eye.

 

‘You can’t stay at school forever, lad’ one of the men said grinning wildly. ‘And if it’s so bad, why not come back? We can always use skilled hands.’

 

That had evidently been the wrong thing to say. Because the youths both turned quiet and solemn in a matter of seconds.

 

‘Hogwarts doesn’t give out university diploma’s-’ the girl started. ‘And Mary’s job doesn’t exactly pay well.’ The boy finished for her.

 

Everyone nursed their drinks for a moment, contemplating the situation at hand. It was really the ideal moment to step off his stool and finish his pint. Jack walked to the table, putting just a bit of sway in his step and listening carefully for the moment he could approach them.

 

The girl was now taking her turn to vent her frustration. She had to be a seamstress, because when he did arrive at the table she was in the middle of a caricature of one of her clients.

 

‘But oh no, the latest fashion is not good enough for Dorea Potter, she’s married after all, she needs everything-’

 

She faltered when he came near and the whole table was staring at him, with rather more distrust than a civvie should harbor. Being in uniform should make you popular, not unpopular, but apparently the world was upside down here. Wouldn’t stop him from trying.

 

"I love a man out of uniform almost as much as in one."

 

It wasn’t the most smooth delivery he had ever made, but it had an impact. The last bit of relaxed attitude had vanished in the blink of an eye and he watched as the boy reached under the table, as if he was going for a concealed gun. Jack was surprised really, it was rare that everyone understood who his comments were meant for. The girls would giggle and blush and the men would act embarrassed. But half the table was eying him and the other half was eyeing the boy, as if he was likely to explode.

 

The girl kicked her friend in the shins and hissed something he couldn’t make out. The lanky man frowned and murmured loudly enough for him to hear over the music.

 

‘Not the stupid stick.’

 

It was really a too good opportunity to pass up. So he sidled into the booth next to the boy and grinned at him, determined to break the ice and ignore the odd tension in the air. He looked even nicer up close, all pale creamy skin and dark big eyes. It would be a good way to get his thoughts of the last few weeks. He was on leave after all.

 

The boy didn’t take so kindly to him, though the other people around the table relaxed marginally when the expected explosion didn’t arrive. Jack allowed him his moment, to gather his wits, but the moment never came and the kid only tensed further.  Jack could really only grab the glass in front of him and drain it with a wink. And then pretend not to notice how he stilled and how those pretty brows bunched together in a frown. The boy was twitching with suppressed anger. Did people actually do that?

 

The boy brought his hands to the table surface again and set them flat on the wood, as if he wanted to dissuade himself from reaching for his gun again. Soldier on leave perhaps? But as far as he knew, you weren’t allowed to carry a gun outside of duty. It was a puzzle he dearly wanted to solve. So he looked the boy in the eyes again and grinned at him while poking him in the shoulder.

 

‘Need help getting your wand under control, Tom?’

 

It didn’t yield the laugh he thought it would. There was a moment he could hear a groan and a resigned sigh from somewhere and then he was on him. It was a problem really, that the lapels of his coat were so easily taken hold of.

 

He couldn’t get out of reach fast enough after the first shock of the fist to his face. Hit his cheekbone, so not a soldier, because they wouldn’t have such poor technique. He was even hotter up close, almost pressed nose to nose. Jack watched the anger flare in his eyes and marveled at the fire.

 

‘What did you say?’

 

He couldn’t come up with anything witty quickly enough, so he took advantage of his greater height and tilted his head slightly to kiss Tom full on the lips. It was satisfying to see the shock on his face, to see it eclipsing the anger for a moment. It was funny really, how an unexpected action could make someone so pliable and confused. It only took a few seconds before he was violently pushed away. It meant they both went flying back too, as Jack wasn’t about to let go either.

 

-

 

Hitting his head hurt quite a bit and that was the moment he realised that perhaps he had taken it too far. Tom scrambled back, but it was easy to see that Jack hadn’t broken his fall, because his movements were far from the quick reflexes they were before. The girl had gotten up and gotten hold of her friend, leading him gently by his shoulder and back to the booth. No-one was there to help him get up, but he managed just fine.

 

The barman was looking hostile suddenly and but he wasn’t about to scurry out with his tail between his legs because of a rejection, besides, the boy didn’t know him yet. Anything could happen.

 

‘A round for everyone, as apology for the brawl,’ he said with a rueful smile and handed the man a twenty. That seemed to mollify him at least. The group at the table wasn’t mollified in the least when he walked towards them again. The girl has acquired a chair somewhere and was examining his catch thoroughly when Jack slunk back into the booth.

 

She eyed him balefully but didn’t comment, choosing to berate Tom instead.

 

‘At least you didn’t break your fingers this time, you idiot.’

 

Tom did not agree with the treatment she was giving him and started glaring at Jack while she bent his fingers every which way to check their mobility.

 

‘He started it.’ The tone was petulant enough that he didn’t even have to imagine the finger jab that came with it.

 

She sighed and let go of his hand to stand up and stare in his eyes again. They had been through the routine before apparently, because she didn’t even have to tell him to keep his eyes open.  

 

‘I’m going to have to stay up with you again, but I don’t think it’s a severe concussion at least.’

 

One of the men wordlessly handed her her half drunken cider as she rejoined them in the booth. Tom looked rather forlorn in his chair at the head of the table, with a frown and a displeased expression marring his face.

 

‘As if I’m not staying up with you already,’ he said, with surprising venom. The girl’s face fell and Jack suddenly realised that perhaps the two of them were together. Tom’s face crumpled together with hers, as if he regretted his words.

 

‘Damn, sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, it’s not your fault.’

 

She looked down in her glass and shrugged. ‘It’s fine.’ Jack got the distinct impression that it was anything but, but he wasn’t about to intrude in the obviously private moment. They would probably throw him out if he said anything now.

 

The silence lingered and he felt compelled to at least start with a proper introduction.

 

‘I’m sorry about that. I’m Captain Jack Harkness, pleased to meet you.’

 

The lanky man grinned at him, as if he hadn’t just kissed one of his friends in the face. ‘Mr Edwards, pleasure.’

 

The other men around the table slowly introduced themselves but the flow of words halted when it came to Tom and the girl.

 

Mr Edwards rolled his eyes and motioned to the girl.

 

‘Our nurse here is Mary and you got punched by Tom, because somehow, being lousy at it doesn’t stop him.’

 

Mary smiled at that and Tom clutched at his head with a groan.

 

‘He assaulted me!’

 

Mary’s smile abruptly disappeared but Tom hadn’t stopped speaking yet.

 

‘I thought he was Avery for a moment.’

 

It sounded vaguely embarrassed, but Jack’s confusion rose with every word that came out of the boy’s mouth. Maybe he should find someone a little less complicated.

 

Mary rubbed her eyes for a moment and took another sip of her drink.

 

‘So you’re going to punch anyone who tries to flirt with you? Or better yet, attack Lord Avery next time he invites you for tea?’

 

Tom didn’t answer that and Jack was looking for some safe topic now, because this wasn’t at all the relaxing evening he had been dreaming off. And he wasn’t about to give up now, despite his misstep. Chemistry was a thing, he just had to convince Tom that not liking someone was a good basis for a fling. The boy obviously disagreed with him on that one.

 

He didn’t respond to his friend’s sarcastic comment either, staring at the table surface, with a faraway look. Jack wanted to hug him but that would likely result in another blow and perhaps it wouldn’t just glance this time.

 

‘So, you’re on leave then?’

 

Tom’s head shot up in his direction and Jack watched as his hair bounced with the movement. He grasped for Mary’s cider and took a sip before answering with a rueful smile.

 

‘Suppose so.’ Mary snorted and stole her drink back again.

 

‘Yeah, on leave from the idiots.’

 

The whole table murmured assent and a picture slowly began to form in Jack’s mind.

 

‘I see, you’re one of those posh boys, with a rich daddy who protects them from being drafted huh?’

 

Tom blinked at him and Jack waited for the burst of righteous fury but surprisingly there was no anger in his stance at all.

 

‘I’m a bastard.’ ‘He’s an orphan.’

 

Mary and Tom stared at each other for a moment and Jack wondered where his luck with people had gone. Was he going to keep stumbling on painful subjects with every single word that came out of his mouth? These people had too much secrets for their own good, honestly.

 

The rest of the table didn’t exactly agree with his observation either.

 

‘Now hold on,’ the portly man in the corner said and straightened his back with a smile. Jack could practically feel the story coming. The pride streamed of him in rivets.

 

‘You are looking at the best Heavy Rescue squad in the whole of London, sir. Tom might not look like much, but he’s done good things for his country.’

 

‘You don’t need to be in the Army to do your bit, you know,’ someone else added.

 

‘Mary here is amazing with any kind of injury. Never fails to do what she needs to do, even when the rest of us are feeling faint at the sight.’

 

‘We got the most people out, still breathing too!’

 

Jack felt his curiosity creeping up again.

 

‘What did Tom do then, exactly?’ he asked and watched as they all exchanged glances before answering as a single voice.

 

‘Buildings!’

 

Tom groaned and let his head fall onto the table surface, Jack wanted to do the same. He had clearly walked into the wrong kind of pub. He patted the boy’s shoulder instead and got a half-hearted glare for his troubles.

 

‘I just handed over the planks to the experts,’ he muttered. ‘No need to exaggerate.’ Mary raised an eyebrow at him while the men burst out in laughter.

 

Jack could relax by his third pint, listening to the banter of the group around him. They didn’t include him exactly, but it was comforting to hear their jokes and laugh with the sarcastic comments thrown at around at random. Mary and Tom may have a secret, but he’s on leave, he doesn’t have to find out what it is.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack, why do you even try? Just let Tom have his pity party in peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack is really too curious for his own good. And Tom should perhaps get a handle on that evil streak.

He really shouldn’t have hoped to see them again when he stepped inside the next evening, but the the feeling was a stubborn and persistent thing. Tom had been overly clear that his advances weren’t welcome and Jack was determined to not be an ass, but he really couldn’t help the butterfly that fluttered through his stomach went he looked around the room and found Tom sitting at the bar. On his own.

 

He cut quite a figure, even in what was obviously casual attire. The hunched shoulders and sombre look made him even more handsome, if that was possible. Several of the girls were eying him and Jack wanted to hiss at them, instead he smiled and slipped in the seat next to Tom.

 

‘You all by your lonesome, handsome?’

 

Tom’s hand tightened around his glass but Jack could swear that he actually perked up, as if he was glad for the company, however annoying it might be.

 

‘They’re all at work,’ he answered and regarded him with half a glance. ‘Are you here to pester me again?’

 

The barman was shooting glances their way, as if he wanted to determine if he should throw them out right away to prevent casualties.

 

Jack shook his head and grinned ruefully.

 

‘I wouldn’t dare, Dorothy Potter, wasn’t it?’

 

Tom took a sip from his beer and smiled at him.

 

‘Yes, Dorea delights in driving her seamstresses insane, the vapid thing.’

 

The smile disappeared abruptly and Jack felt its loss keenly.

 

‘Oh god, they actually expected me to marry the damn woman.’ The glass was set away some distance, while Tom actually collapsed on the bar, laying down his head on his arms and sighing deeply.

 

‘Marry her? You wanna talk about it?’

 

Tom looked up at him in surprise and frowned. The barman took that moment to set Jacks drink in front of him with a warning glare. He took a sip before elaborating.

 

‘You look rather down in the dumps, all thunderclouds, doesn’t suit you.’

 

The frown turned deeper but Tom sat up.

 

‘Mary keeps saying the same thing.’

 

‘Bet she does, but come on, talk to me. It can’t hurt.’

 

His shoulders hunched again and Jack could feel the shutters closing.

 

‘I’m sure you’ve heard of it Captain, loose talk costs lives.’

 

Jack watched his face and wondered again about what on earth was going on. He really shouldn’t pry perhaps, but it was too tantalizing to resist. It was clear that Tom couldn’t have been talking if his friends had been around and he’d be shipping out again soon, couldn’t leave the stone unturned. It would itch.

 

‘I won’t tattle, promise. I won’t even ask.’

 

It felt good to see his resolve crumble. It felt good to have him submit, even if it wasn’t in bed. Toms expression turned contemplative, like he was thinking about how to make use of his precious time. Jack realized that perhaps he did not get the opportunity to talk freely, it made sense, especially when he took the pent up atmosphere of the previous night in account.

 

This was where Tom was on leave, where he could be Tom, instead of whoever he had to be elsewhere. Could relax and let his guard down. And he had intruded on that aggressively.

 

The first thing he did was order another drink and Jack felt himself growing flustered watching his Adam's apple bob with every gulp. The glass clunked down on the bar with more force than strictly necessary.

 

Tom was the picture of misery still, all taut lines and shadows under his eyes.

 

‘I’m just so sick of it,’ he murmured. ‘The first Season was manageable, but now they’re even more frenzied than before.’ Jack regretted his promise for a moment because if he recalled correctly, there hadn’t been an actual Season in London for quite a while.

 

‘It gets under my skin, to have them watch me like a hawk the entire night.’

 

Shudders of disgust should not be as attractive as Toms was. Jack had to fight the impulse to touch him and held onto his own drink like an anchor. He had thought he needed encouragement to talk, but he really only had to look attentive and he wouldn’t even notice Jack barely heard what was being said.

 

‘They’re all so hungry for a damn scandal, all hoping I’m going to trip and dance a bloody reel with someone and I swear, I’ll do it because I’m bored of out of my damn mind.’

 

The dingy windows rattled for a moment and Tom took a deep breath and clenched his free hand in a first. Jack had to fight for a moment to not reach out and curl his hand around Toms. The rueful smile was back now, all irony with just an edge of pity.

 

‘But if I do that, I’ll be engaged.’

 

His surprised was noted because Tom looked up and grinned for a moment. Jack’s heart gave a thump.

 

‘Unbelievable, I know.’

 

‘It sounds horribly old fashioned yes, I didn’t think anyone could do a reel anymore.’

 

Tom raked a hand through his hair and rolled his eyes.

 

‘Reels, quadrilles, if I never have to do a cotillion again in my life it will be too soon.’

 

‘So don’t, just don’t go. They can hardly make you be there.’

 

He got another eyeroll for that and the tension that had flowed away instantly returned.

 

‘I can’t.’

 

Could anyone sound so tortured? Jack really wished he could just whisk him away, just take his hand and walk to a place where he would never hear such a tone of voice again. It sounded so defeated. As if the war had been lost and now there was just ruin and death left.

 

‘If I want a job, I need a wife, a nice and aristocratic one and for a wife, I need to display myself in front of the gawkers and dance.’

 

‘Bloody hell, do you live in the Middle Ages?’

 

He didn’t get an answer to that, just gloomy silence and another tantalizing show of lips and skin.

 

He wanted to understand, to get more than snippets and glimpses of the strange world in which Tom existed. To see what he was like when he wasn’t on leave. Less unrestrained perhaps, less angry and colder.

 

‘What about Mary?’

 

It was out before he completely realised what he was saying, Tom blinked at him, looking confused for a moment.

 

‘She’s with you, isn’t she? She hates this Potter person even more than you do.’

 

He crumpled again and his hands trembled for a moment. It was over in the blink of an eye, but it was there. Jack had seen people break down, seen them shatter and explode, but never so quietly.

 

Tom was staring into his drink, unaware of what his body was betraying. There was a ghost of a smile around his lips and a faraway expression in his eyes.

 

‘She’s with me, but- she’s a M-’ He let out a frustrated sigh and knocked back the rest of his drink with one fluid movement. The top button of his shirt was unbuttoned and Jack found himself staring at the sliver of exposed skin.

 

‘It’s like the blacks, or the japs. She’s with me, but if I let anyone know, we’re both out of the game.’

 

‘Damn, I wouldn’t even want to be in that game.’

 

He looked up slowly from the empty glass, like a deer caught in the headlights. It was hard to see what he was feeling, to read it out of him. He seemed so lonely, alone and confused and angry all at the same time. He had to look away for a moment and caught the barkeepers eye for a refill, to give them both something to focus on.

 

Tom’s flood of words had stopped for a moment, but something was clearly going on inside. His eyes were almost sparkling with power and Jack couldn’t suppress the shiver working it’s way down his spine.

 

It felt like he was intruding on something, like this time he had picked the wrong secret. This wasn’t a stone he could turn and then put back, forget about when he stepped aboard his ship anymore. This one would likely break his fingers and change his life if he let it. The smile on those lips wasn’t meant for him to see, unreachable and so damn mysterious it hurt. He could see the tension start to rise again, slowly but surely. The frown lines slowly deepened and his muscles tensed up again until he was sure he could see them through the grey fabric of his shirt. Count every group and trace the hours of work in every line.

 

It felt like he was coming to some conclusion, to the heart of his misery.

 

And then he put his head in his hands and Jack wished he had picked any other place to be because he didn’t want to see Tom’s shoulders shake with quiet tears. He could taste it in the air now, the frustration and the anger and how trapped he felt.

 

‘I don’t _know_.’

 

It was quietly said and Jack could feel it through his entire body. Defeat. It made him angry. It made him mad. Another person, living life without actually living a second of it.

 

‘Bloody hell, yes you do!’

 

Several heads turned and Jack felt a rare pang of embarrassment. He really shouldn’t let it affect him, shouldn’t let someone’s choices touch him so much. But shit, he wasn’t choosing at all.

 

Jack stopped resisting and reached for Tom’s hand. It was warm, contrary to what he had expected, warm and soft and real. He could feel his heartbeat speeding up in concert with his own, but he wasn’t pulling away. Tom looked up and for the first time in the whole conversation, Jack felt like he was actually looking at him. Here, in the present, staring in each other's eyes. He could feel the pull.

 

‘You know damn well what you don’t want.’ He continued in a softer voice, knowing his own frustration was pouring off him. Tom flinched.

 

‘You hate all those aristocratic arseholes and I don’t think you want any jealous and empty-headed daddy’s girl for a wife, do you?’

 

Tom barely even blinked, still as a statue. Jack tried not to get lost in his eyes.

 

‘You don’t want to be some figurehead for the rest of your life, do you?’

 

That hit a sore point. Life rushed back and Jack watched as he took sudden deep heaving breaths.

 

‘I could be Minister,’ he murmured.

 

He could really punch something right around now. Could really do with a good rousing fistfight. He couldn’t ask, couldn’t ask because he promised but it was abundantly clear that he wasn’t talking about anything that played in London. Or at least not the London they were in right now. It was a chilling thought, but he was as human as they came. Jack would know. He wasn’t about to be convinced his own instincts were lying because of one confused idiot.

 

‘They say that to become Minister you have to be the smartest and the most talented, but really, they all just want the most gullible idiot they can find. And preferably one with their own views.’

 

The stillness came back, rushing in and turning soft warm skin into marble and ice. Jack could feel the power rushing through the air, something fae barely constrained.

 

_ ‘I could prove them wrong.’ _

 

He almost had his gun in his hand, almost emptied the entire clip out of sheer reflex but then there was a gust of wind and every bit of power seemed to drain out of the room. Tom’s chest was heaving and he was paler than before, his eyes still sparkling and dark with something Jack did not want to define.

 

Not evil. Not evil.

 

Tom blinked at him and turned to his drink again, as if nothing like that had even happened. It couldn’t possibly be a normal thing for him could it?

 

It took a long moment before he could get his wits together, to get the shakes out and smile, Tom either didn’t notice or didn’t mind, retreated to some faraway place again.

 

He didn’t know what to say any longer, fearing what would happen, which remark would go further than he expected, another shot in the dark that hit something deep and dark he really did not want to see again. Did Mary know about this? Would he be sent on a mission some time in the future, to fix the destruction that this innocent looking young man had wrought out of something dark and bitter that was clearly lurking in him?

 

He was on leave, this was not his problem. He should get up and leave and walk away. He didn’t.

 

‘You’d hate that,’ he said and his own voice sounded brittle in his ears, his smiles suddenly plastered on and painful. He wanted to drop the act, wanted to yell at something, at Tom for being like that, for ruining the picture, the idea. Leave was supposed to be uncomplicated, but well, he had stepped up to them and blundered in, he would have to set it right again.

 

‘You’d be bored out of your skull, smart kid like you.’

 

Tom’s eyes sharpened for a moment and Jack had to do his best not to scramble away from the gaze. It was so focused and clinical that he felt naked and exposed and ashamed. And then he felt a tingle of something, something questing and cutting and painful.

 

When he grimaced the feeling fell away abruptly and Tom looked shocked for a moment. Jack couldn’t help but think back to the surprise in his eyes and the feeling of his lips on Tom’s, it was the only thing holding him back from storming out and never looking back.

 

Fucking hell.

 

‘You could feel that?’ The question was innocently posed, but Jack was done, completely and utterly through.

 

‘Did you just invade my mind?’ His voice was barely more than a growl, low and harsh and it was a pleasure to see the surprise linger for a moment longer. It was good to have the idiot off balance.

 

‘Boys! If you are so determined to fight, you’ll have to do it outside,’ the barkeep hissed. Jack shook out the rage and clung on to his beer. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Tom do exactly the same.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All good things come to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jcx-dTZhIsw) is the song I imagine they're dancing to.

The silence lingered and Jack watched the hour hand on the clock behind the bar go round and round until he was bored of it. The anger had slowly faded until there was only curiosity left. He had the sneaking suspicion that he would be out of the country before he could figure out the enigma. That was why he asked really, because he would leave and it could hardly do any harm. Any more at least.

 

‘Dance with me.’

 

Tom’s head shot up and he was regarded with narrowed eyes.

 

‘Why in Merlin's name would I do that?’

 

He was back in his element again, no longer thrown off guard and certainly not worrying about what he would be leaving behind when he stepped out the door.

 

‘You’d be doing your country a favour, I leave tomorrow.’ Tom raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed at all.

 

‘Or are you afraid Tommy boy?’ It was always good to see someone bite, see them give in.

 

He wouldn’t be getting any more than this, but that was alright.

 

Tom was hesitant, if not afraid, at least a little bit. Everyone would feel afraid, but no-one took it as a challenge. Normally when he asked people, they would take offense and then he would have a fight instead of a dance, which often didn’t really bother him much. But Tom hesitated for a moment and then walked to the jukebox. Jack had to take a few hasty steps to overtake him and block his path.

 

‘Oh no sugar, I get to pick.’

 

He could see the exact moment where the last bits of sanity were just shoved in a corner and left to die.

 

‘Fine!’ It was all exasperation and then his eyes narrowed as the music started.

 

‘Oh no, no, this is madness.’

 

He still put his hand on Jack’s shoulder anyway and Jack felt the corners of his mouth had to be hurting by now. You couldn’t possibly grin this much without consequences.

 

He could feel Tom tense and stiffen when he pulled him close and he was studiously making sure not to look in his eyes. Jack couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him over that.

 

‘I’m not going to eat you Tommy, stop worrying.’

 

There was a brief struggle as they both set the first step forward at the same time, expecting the other would move back. The head bump wasn’t painful exactly but Jack had to take a deep breath and stop himself from ruining the entire thing by going in for a kiss again.

 

Tom stilled for a second, as if he could sense what Jack was thinking. He probably could. And then he actually took a step back and when Jack started again at the next measure he actually followed. It was a surprise. He was sure he would have to exert force to make it happen but somehow Tom was actually responding to his movement, haltingly at first. It didn’t take long before he could feel Tom relaxing into the rhythm, the tension melting away between the almost seamless communication and the fluid steps. Jack had to bite his lips to not intrude on the moment. He would start talking and break their concentration and then Tom would realise what a big mistake he was making and then it would be over.

 

No, he was going to stay quiet and enjoy the close contact, the skill of his partner and the music.

 

Tom was a good dancer, even if he did not have much experience as a follower and Jack was soon lacing his steps with variations and when he blinked the calm foxtrot had suddenly changed into a waltz without any thought at all. He hadn’t enjoyed himself so much in quite a while, watching as the astonished faces of the patrons whirl by. They weren’t outright sneering at them, but it was a close thing. Jack didn’t care, too focused on maintaining the delicate equilibrium. Tom wasn’t looking away any longer and Jack could only watch his face, the soft lines of joy that transformed him, he couldn’t feel any darkness lurking now. He had the person he first saw in front of him again, a young and mysterious man that was on leave from his even more mysterious life.

 

He was actually smiling, the corners of his mouth turning up in mirth and Jack almost tripped at the sight. He couldn’t keep the silence any longer.

 

‘What’s so funny?’

 

Tom smiled outright and laid his head on Jack’s shoulder.

 

‘They would all have a heart attack if they saw this,’ he whispered, sounding utterly content. ‘Upstanding Mr. Riddle, dancing with a man and a waltz too, the scandal.’

 

He couldn’t keep the flutter out of his stomach or stop his heart from almost pounding out of his chest. Keep going, just keep going.

 

The words were out before he knew it.

 

‘Take me with you, I’ll make sure they all drop dead from shock.’

 

Tom’s chuckle vibrated through his chest, buzzing and making him feel dizzy.

 

‘That would be a thing of beauty. I’d like to see you fumble your way though Paine, to be honest.’

 

‘Fumble?’ The tempo of their steps slowly increased. ‘Are you implying I can’t dance?’

 

Tom’s laugh made the world seem to glow and sparkle.

 

‘I’m simply stating that you would not know a Jeté Assemblé if it hit you in the face.’

 

‘Oh, I remember those, they fell out of fashion after a while, walking is much easier.’

 

There was another chuckle and Jack couldn’t help closing his eyes for a moment, doing his best to capture every thread of memory, preserve the moment perfectly. He wanted to remember this.

 

Tom was the one who ruined it, in the end, who started paying attention to the world around them.

 

‘I need to go.’

 

The hesitant tone made the loss a little less harsh, but when Tom stepped away from him, he was still left feeling like some part of him had been torn away. It was good to see him smiling again, seeing him calm and perhaps genuinely happy. It hurt to see him leave.

 

And then he was rushing out the door after him and looking around wildly trying to spot him in the sudden dark.

 

‘Tom!’

 

Tom whirled around, his face barely visible in the light of the moon.

 

‘Yes?’

 

What could he say?

 

‘Goodbye.’


End file.
